


The Lady Inquisitor's Elven Serving Man

by WardenHawke



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 00:19:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3629655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WardenHawke/pseuds/WardenHawke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor is poisoned at the Winter Palace. Fluff and humor and panic ensue. Includes complete bastardization of magic and healing for the sake of fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lady Inquisitor's Elven Serving Man

“If you will excuse me, my lord, I must speak with my elven serving man.” Lavellan politely bowed out of a crowd of Orlesian nobility and walked to where Solas leaned leisurely against a pedestal. At least half of the nobles stared at her backless dress as she sashayed towards him. He had been watching her play the Game with ease from his secluded corner for most of the ball. She played the nobility as effortlessly as the string band played the waltz. Men and women had been throwing themselves at her—with no concern for her Dalish heritage—since she walked into the Winter Palace, and it was only getting worse as the night went on. Solas enjoyed witnessing the progression.

Before she arrived, the court had been intrigued by the mystery she posed. When she entered, they were all struck by her sense of presence; one could almost feel it when the Inquisitor entered a room. By now her deft charm and easy wit had won her the heart of all of Orlais, and she had yet to even accomplish the evening’s goal. By the time the party ended, members of the Council of Heralds would be peeling off their pants at the very sight of her. 

Solas had to admit he found it all quite amusing, so many trained nobles losing their composure over an elf. Perhaps their masks did not hide everything quite as well as they hoped. 

The Inquisitor was lovely to look at; that was true. Her gown was unlike anything worn at Halamshiral, but it was not needed to set her apart. Her flowing auburn hair and quick green eyes accomplished more than mere clothes ever would, although Vivienne would no doubt disagree. Still, to lose one’s calm over a single woman, however beautiful and unique—not to mention intelligent and kind—showed a real failure at courtly intrigue. He had expected more of these Orlesians, based on the stern lecture given to him by Josephine. One man was barely concealing an erection beneath his finely cut trousers as he watched the Inquisitor leave their circle.

“Inquisitor, how…?” His words were cut off as the Inquisitor grabbed his arm. Her fingers clamped into his bicep as she dragged him away from his post.

“Solas, I need some assistance. My hair shook loose in the last dance, and I hoped you might redo it.” She spoke loudly so the surrounding party guests could hear as she pushed him towards an empty room. More quietly, she added for him, “We have a problem.” 

Lavellan pushed him into a nearby storage closet, still holding his arm in a bruising grip, and shut the door behind them. As soon as the latch clicked, she sunk, more like melted really, onto one of the boxes. 

“Inquisitor…”

“Solas, I’ve been poisoned.” Lavellan said it like one might say “I’ve got a small tear in my dress”, no concern, just fact. He almost didn’t believe her—she was so unconcerned—until he noticed the sweat beading around her hairline.

“And what does the Inquisitor want me to do? Should I get one of your advisors?” He tried to keep his voice even, to mimic her nonchalance, but his voiced cracked slightly. He attempted to reign in any panic; that would not help the Inquisitor now.

“No. The court mustn’t know. Solas, you are the closest thing to a healer we have right now.” She was not wrong. Varric and Iron Bull would certainly not be able to help.

“Very well, tell me everything that happened, so I know what I am dealing with. Quickly.”

“The Marquis de Something or Another offered me a some wine. He took a drink first so I thought it would be safe, and I had no wish to be rude, so I drank some. That was an hour ago, so it must be slow acting.”

“This Marquis, have you seen him in the past few minutes?”

“Yes. He was dancing, so he must be fiiiine.” The Inquisitor doubled over, clutching her chest; her hand shot out to Solas’ shoulder to steady herself. He gripped her arm and helped her sit up. The mark on her hand sputtered angrily. Solas grabbed Lavellan’s face and forced her eyes to meet his. 

It was just as he feared; they were glazed over, the bright green color fading from them slowly. He felt for her pulse and could feel it weakening. Still fighting panic, he reached out with his mana, feeling for her magical aura. It was fading quicker than her pulse.

“This poison, it must be a rare type of magebane. It is attacking that which makes you a mage, hence the unharmed Marquis.” He caught her face in his hands once more. “Inquisitor, focus. Listen to me. You must focus.” The Inquisitor’s head lolled to one side when he released her. He slapped her cheek lightly. She did not respond.

When he said it would be interesting to see that indomitable focus dominated, this was not what he had in mind. 

“Inquisitor.” Her lids began to droop over her distant eyes. Forgive me for this, he thought, as he cast an extremely cold spell down her bare back. She jumped, her eyes popping open.

“Inquisitor, I cannot save you from this. You must focus on fighting the poison within your body. It is attacking your mana, killing you, but that is the only way you can fight back.” Her eyes narrowed, and she nodded slowly. Good. She was now at least aware of what must be done. She gripped the skirt of her dress and closed her eyes, focused on defeating the magebane.

“I can help, lend you strength, but you must do this yourself. All you need is to remain awake long enough for the poison to work out of your system. It shouldn’t be much longer.” He pulled a box in front of her and sat down, so he could hold her shoulders, keeping her upright, as she did battle.

“Talk to me, Inquisitor, so I know you are conscious.” 

“What... what do you want me to say?”

“Say anything. Anything at all. Just keep talking and remained focused. Say whatever you are thinking.”

“All of the Winter Palace thinks we ran off to have sex.” That was not what Solas expected her to say. She only did as she asked, but still…

“Not that I mind. Better off getting shagged than dying of magebane. And if they think that, they don’t suspect I am injured.”

“I… I suppose you are right. Though the poison will leave you drained. They will notice your lack of energy.” The Inquisitor giggled, and Solas’ ears tuned pink. He had not meant… well, he supposed he had phrased that poorly. 

“Yeah they will. And they will wonder what clever things that Elven apostate did to exhaust me so.” She giggled again, her laugh turning into a small snort. Solas let himself laugh as well. If she had the bearing to laugh, maybe he could relax a bit, lessening his grip on her shoulders. She immediately fell towards him. Perhaps not too much relaxation. Solas steadied her once more. Her eyes drifted over his body slowly, trying to find some place to fix her gaze. They were unfocused again. Fenedhis, the laughter had distracted her.

“Inquisitor, look at me.”

“Oh, I’m looking at you Solassss… Sssoooolassss. So many ssssss’s.”

“In the eyes, da’len.”

“Eyes. Are those not your eyes?” She laughed again, a snort that quickly turned hysterical. Suddenly her voice was choked with panic. “Hahren, I can’t see. I can’t see anything.” 

“I’m here.” Solas grabbed her face and gently stroked her cheek, placing their foreheads together. Her shaking subsided and her breathing slowed. Good. If she panicked, she would lose the focus she needed. Perhaps he could supplement her mana with his own and help her in this battle. Any strength he could give her, he allowed to flow between them. 

“I can see again,” Lavellan sighed in relief. She pulled back to look at him, gratitude etched in every feature. Solas smiled as Lavellan pushed his hands from where they had slipped down to her shoulders. He removed his hands completely, but kept them near in case she faltered.

“I’m fine now,” she asserted before promptly falling face first into his lap.

“Inquisitor.” He shook her gently. “Inquisitor!” He grabbed her shoulders to pull her upright. Limply, she rolled off of his lap and onto the floor. He followed her down, cradling her body to his chest. Her eyes were open, but here was no life behind them. He checked her mouth—no breath. 

“No no no no NO! Inquisitor, stay with me. Corypheus does not win like this.” He slapped her cheek, the tried the ice down her back once more. No response. Crushing her body to him, he tried to force his mana in to her but he could find no connection. 

“Inquisitor, wake up! Please, wake up. It’s time for you to wake up, Ellana.” He had one final idea. Gods, this had better work. He laid her gently on her back and pulled her dress down until only her breast band covered her top. Charging both hands with electric energy, he placed them over her heart and sent the shock through her. Her back arched off of the floor, while her legs kicked wildly. Still, no response. He repeated the action and her body convulsed in the same way. 

“Ma vhenan, I will not lose you!” He roared as he charged his hands for one final attempt. He sent the lightening rippling through her body, an eerie glow filling the room a he willed her to breath.

Ellana Lavellan gasped as air filled her lungs. When she could breath again, she rolled over and wretched into an opportunely placed bucket. Solas dropped to the floor in exhaustion and relief, averting his eyes to give her privacy as she emptied her stomach. When the noises finally stopped, he moved towards her. Her dress was pooled around her stomach as she wiped sick from her lips with the back of her hand. Solas thought he had never seen a more beautiful sight. 

“Thank you, Solas.” He helped the Inquisitor to her feet. “I think the poison is completely out of my system now.” Solas could not help but laugh.

“Are you certain, Inquisitor? The last time you insisted you were fine…”

“Very well. I won’t say I’m fine. To be honest, I feel like shit.” Lavellan looked down, realizing for the first time that she was nearly topless. She was clearly more upset about the state of her dress. “And it seems I look like shit. How will I return to the ball?”

“Stay here. I will fetch Leliana, and she will see what can be done.” He rose to exit the closet before adding with a grin, “I may also encourage her to spread the rumor that your dress was ripped in our enthusiastic coupling.”

“Solas…” Lavellan started, but it was too late. He had already slipped out the door to fetch the spymaster.


End file.
